PART TWO
Draco hadn't planned for his Saturday to get any better. He intended to do a good deed, which, in his experience, rarely ended well. Not that he did good deeds often: his shining moments during the war mostly boiled down to not doing bad things—or at least doing them without much enthusiasm.
He wasn't sure his current plan could be called a good deed. Granger certainly wouldn't appreciate it. But Draco hoped that if he stalled Tennant's plans long enough, his neighbor would tire of hunting Granger and move on to another witch. It was unlikely—Tennant had inherited all his father's stubbornness—but possible. For example, Ginny Weasley would make a great distraction for Tennant, and she'd probably enjoy the skirmishes too.
That was what had brought Draco to the Astronomy Tower on this clear October day. He had been trailing his target since lunch and was now climbing the tower stairs—cushioning charms muffling the sound of his steps.
The wizard was fiddling with a brass telescope mounted in the tower, and beside him on the floor was an open box of magical instruments. Draco hid in a corner shaded from the sun, holding his wand and wondering what the hell Granger saw in Justin Finch-Fletchley.
The Head Boy was fairly attractive, Draco supposed. Well-dressed—for a Muggle-born. He and Granger probably talked about Muggle books or, say… construction cranes. In the Muggle Studies lessons Draco had been attending, they had just started the topic of non-magical engineering, which sounded outright dangerous. He would never voluntarily enter a Muggle building.
Draco didn't have time to waste, but he lingered in his hiding spot, watching the wizard polish the telescope's casing and tighten screws. Had Finch-Fletchley touched Granger with those long fingers? Kissed her with those thin lips? Draco loosened his grip on his wand before he snapped it in half. He could cast a binding spell on the idiot right now and be done with it. But then Granger would wander the castle looking for Finch-Fletchley and run into Tennant while lost in thought. Draco decided to stick to the plan. It was better for everyone.
Even though he had no idea why he even cared. It was just a Hufflepuff.
Draco stepped out of the shadows.
"Finch-Fletchley," he said coldly. What a bloody idiotic surname.
The Hufflepuff nearly fell over the telescope at the sight of Draco. But he recovered surprisingly fast, drew his wand, and aimed it at Draco—just like Vane had. But Draco was quicker.
"Expelliarmus!" A quick, nonverbal disarming spell, and the Hufflepuff's wand flew into his hand.
"You'll do exactly as I say, Mudblood," Draco growled.
"And if I don't?" The Hufflepuff didn't look nearly scared enough.
"There are two ways out of this tower," Draco said. "The stairs or…" He nodded slightly toward the slim iron railing meant to prevent stargazers from falling a hundred feet.
"You wouldn't dare," Finch-Fletchley said with a rather convincing smirk. "You'll end up back in Azkaban." The Head Boy regarded Draco thoughtfully. "Though maybe it would be worth it."
"No one will know," Draco said. "A sad, unfortunate accident." He stepped closer, forcing the other wizard back toward the railing. It had been a long time since Draco had threatened someone with murder, and it was no more enjoyable than during the war. But he needed to wrap this up quickly—the slow turning of the giant bronze astronomical model was making him nauseous, and he hated this place.
"My demand is very simple," Draco continued. "Stay away from Granger."
The puff's eyes widened.
"Hermione? Why?"
"If you have a date with Granger today, cancel it," Draco said.
"What's it to you, Malfoy?" the Hufflepuff asked. "Why do you care if I spend time with Hermione?"
Draco growled low in his throat, instantly hating the sound of Granger's name in Finch-Fletchley's mouth.
The other man looked him over appraisingly.
"So this is what Death Eaters do now?" he asked. "Ruin other people's evening plans?" The Hufflepuff was nearly Draco's height, his face full of contempt.
"Goddamn it, this is for your own good!" Draco snapped. This was why he didn't do charity. People never listened. "Granger doesn't need your pointless chatter!"
The wizard's face darkened.
"Who are you to decide what Hermione needs? Give me back my wand!"
Draco told himself to stay calm. Cursing the Head Boy was basically buying a one-way ticket to Azkaban.
"It's very simple," he said. "Stay away from Granger. Doesn't matter why. Cancel the date and go babble about your bulldozers with someone else. Deal?"
"No deal," Finch-Fletchley replied, his blue eyes icy. "Give me my wand back or I'm going to McGonagall."
Draco clenched his wand tightly, and a pink petunia bloomed in the prefect's dark hair. An awkward silence followed. At last, Draco placed Finch-Fletchley's golden elm wand next to the telescope and stepped back.
"Think about it," he said.
"As if," Finch-Fletchley grabbed his wand and pointed it at Draco. "Minus one hundred points from Slytherin."
Draco sneered. He didn't care, though Theo would no doubt be furious. He turned sharply, his black robes billowing dramatically, and stormed down the tower stairs. On the way, he punched the stone wall, unhappy with himself. Draco had hoped Finch-Fletchley would show a shred of sense, but suspected the wizard belonged in the wrong bloody house.
Draco watched the Head Boy closely during dinner, and he didn't like what he saw. Instead of staying away from Granger, Finch-Fletchley practically ran to her the moment she entered the Great Hall and walked her to the Hufflepuff table. Granger had her back to Draco, so he couldn't see her face, but Finch-Fletchley looked over her curls to give Draco a cold, impassive stare. Still, Granger left the hall alone—no doubt after agreeing with the puff where and when to meet.
"I'll wait outside," Draco said to Tennant in a lowered voice. He left the hall and followed Granger up the marble staircase to the first-floor corridor. But before he could catch up, she had already turned around, her wand hand hidden in her sleeve. Maybe she really did have eyes in the back of her head.
Granger squinted at him.
"You look awful, Malfoy."
Draco glared at her. He knew he looked awful, especially after a day spent in the Forbidden Forest and Astronomy Tower, and he didn't need anyone else confirming it.
"I need to talk to you, Granger."
"What, we don't spend enough time together?" she raised an eyebrow. "Where are you off to?"
Draco slipped into the alcove behind the tapestry, betting on Granger's curiosity. His guess was right—she stepped into the alcove after him.
He immediately regretted it. Her high ponytail brushed his nose as she pulled the tapestry shut, and her thigh pressed against his…
"Well?" Her sharp tone mercifully cut off that line of thought.
"Tennant Rowley," Draco rasped, then cleared his throat and repeated, "He's watching you."
Granger snorted.
"I know. Thinks he's being very sneaky."
"Don't meet with your puff tonight," Draco said.
"I absolutely will," said Granger. Her expression couldn't be described as seductive in any way, but her closeness was overwhelming. Her floral scent filled the tight space. Draco knew the softness of those curls, the sweetness of those lips, the tenderness of her cheeks…
He lowered his head further.
"Tennant is watching that puff now. He'll be lying in wait."
"I… I can handle it," Granger whispered. Draco felt her breath on his lips.
No. You can't. She wasn't listening—no one ever did. Please, please don't meet him, Draco wanted to say, but that would sound like begging. Malfoys don't beg.
Granger's lashes dipped slightly. Draco couldn't help himself—he brushed her lips with his own.
"Granger, I—"
"Kormac!"A shrill squeal shattered the moment, and to Draco's horror, a small hand began pulling the tapestry aside."Oh, Kormac, come on…"
Vane peeked into the alcove, her eyes widening at the sight of them. The witch gave a startled squeak and vanished again. Draco leaned against the wall in relief. Vane wouldn't say anything.
"We need to get out of here," Granger said, her face flushed.
"Wait." Draco extended an arm to block her. "Don't go. Don't meet him."
"I have to. I need to fix that clock," she said. Her honey-golden eyes looked almost pleading. "It could affect the timing element of the spell."
"Tennant's going to be watching him and—"
"Justin won't let him."
"Your puff is an idiot," Draco snapped.
"And your roommate's the idiot. And I'm not afraid of any Rowley." She ducked under his arm and darted out of the alcove.
Draco rushed after her, not caring about potential witnesses—but fortunately, the corridor was empty. Her tousled ponytail disappeared around the corner, but Draco couldn't follow Granger. He had to keep an eye on Tennant.
Scowling, he headed back down the marble staircase, hoping the Hufflepuff was still in the Great Hall. Yes—Finch-Fletchley was still there, devouring custard and rambling about some nonsense, judging by the faces of his classmates.
So Draco stepped into the shadows near the hourglass cabinet. (The idiot hadn't been bluffing about house points—the bottom of Slytherin's hourglass was now empty.) Just then, Blaise entered the castle's entrance hall, pulling up the hood of his black cloak.
Then Weaselette appeared, and Draco's blood froze. Bloody hell—he'd completely forgotten about her. Just what he needed. She'd trail after Draco and—
Or not? Blaise now moved from shadow to shadow, looking ominous, and Weasley followed him. They both disappeared into the corridor opposite the Great Hall. What was Blaise up to?
At that moment, Finch-Fletchley appeared, Tennant following close behind. Granger had been right—Tennant was terrible at being stealthy. The Head Boy was striding with his nose in the air, making no attempt at subtlety. An insufferable idiot—he knew Draco was scheming about Granger, and still, Finch-Fletchley made no effort to protect her.
Though maybe Draco had been wrong about the Hufflepuff. He found Tennant at the top of the marble stairs, looking exactly like his father—which is to say, stunned.
"Where'd he go?" Tennant hissed.
Draco shrugged. Maybe this would turn out okay.
"Let's go." Tennant climbed the stairs, hesitating at the second-floor landing before continuing. Then Draco nearly groaned aloud—Finch-Fletchley was standing on the third-floor landing, scolding two Slytherin first-years for untucked shirts.
Draco clenched his teeth. Fucking Head Boy. Sure, he didn't like when Slytherins looked sloppy either, but was this really the time? Finch-Fletchley left the ashamed boys behind and entered the third-floor corridor. Draco had a good idea where they were headed, and he was right. He and Tennant peeked around the corner just in time to see the Hufflepuff slip into the old Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
A faint shimmer appeared over the door.
"He cast protective charms," Draco said.
"Break them," Tennant ordered. "We don't have all day."
Draco approached the door, drawing his wand.
"Cooperate, or it's firewood time," he muttered.
The wand obeyed—Draco easily dispelled the charms and entered the room. He closed the door silently behind him. The idiot was facing away, staring at plaster heads. Too easy.
"Stupefy," Draco hissed, and the Hufflepuff crumpled to the floor.
Draco crossed the room swiftly."Should've listened to me," he told the unconscious wizard at his feet. "Now she's in danger because of you, you dumb fuck."
He began pacing the room, ignoring the plaster heads and skeleton. Soon, he heard muffled voices in the hallway. Draco crept to the door and cracked it open to peek out.
"Oh, hi, Rowley."Granger was standing with her back to Draco, but he could almost hear her rolling her eyes."Don't you have anything better to do? You're never going to pass your NEWTs if you keep tailing witches."
Tennant chuckled.
"I'd take lessons with you in something much more fun, Hermione."
Draco saw her back tense slightly. But there was no fear in her voice.
"Not interested, Rowley. Seriously, do any of you Slytherins ever manage to get laid like normal people?"
Draco narrowed his eyes. That was wildly inappropriate.
"Interesting," Tennant said, stepping closer, and Draco hoped Granger noticed."And what do you know about how Slytherins have sex, hmm? Speaking from personal experience?"
Fuck. Why was this bastard so easy to underestimate?
Granger snorted.
"Oh, I've seen you try to flirt with that slimy voice. Trust me, it's not charming—it's creepy." Her tone turned instructive. "Think of it like a dance, Rowley—one step forward, one step back. Let her want you. No trapping or pushing. You should consider—"
Draco smirked. He'd sell tickets to this show. But the amusement didn't last. If there was one thing Rowley hated, it was mockery—and Tennant's smug grin turned into naked hatred.
"I don't know why I waste time trying to be nice," he said. "You'll be begging on your knees when I'm done with you, with your—"
He lunged forward, and Granger flinched, raising her wand. A red spark flashed—and she collapsed to the floor.
Draco froze. He was a fool—of course Tennant wouldn't attack directly. The Slytherin had set a tiny stunning trap, popular among Death Eaters during the war. Tennant crouched over the fallen witch, arms braced.
"Stupefy!" Draco whispered, hitting Tennant from the side. The huge wizard crashed down—now with a yellow buttercup blooming in his hair. Draco shook his head at his wand, then slipped into the classroom and quickly knelt beside Granger.
She was lying on her back, arms outstretched, her sweater ridden up to expose the skin above her jeans. Draco didn't like how pale she looked, but her pulse was strong and her breathing steady.
Draco aimed his wand at her chest.
"Rennervate."
Granger's eyes flew open, and now a red camellia had bloomed in her curls. Oh, for fuck's sake…
"Malfoy! What are you doing here?" she cried.
"Saving your arse, as you can see."
"I had it under control…"
"You had nothing under control," Draco cut her off. "You're lying on the bloody floor, in case you didn't notice. I told you not to meet with that puff, I told you—"
"Justin!" Granger sat up sharply, banging her head into Draco's jaw.
"Ow! Careful, you idiot—"
"Where's Justin?" The Gryffindor was already on her feet, wand in hand.
"Oh, don't jump out of your knick—"
Granger shoved Draco aside and ran into the classroom.
"Justin!"
Draco glanced around nervously—someone could show up any moment and find Tennant. He needed to get out of here. But instead, he peeked into the classroom and saw Granger kneeling beside the puff.
"Justin, can you hear me?" she shouted.
Of course he couldn't. Why was she fussing over this idiot anyway? And what about Draco? He'd never seen such blatant ingratitude.
"Rennervate!"
"Hermione! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Justin. Did you hit your head? Those stunning spells can be really dangerous…"
Merlin's bloody balls, Draco wasn't sticking around to listen to that. He exited the classroom wing and headed toward the dungeons, glaring at any student who crossed his path. Good deeds were seriously overrated.